Operation: E D U C A T I O N
by PeinSaku
Summary: "What in God's name does this have to do with a dancing panda?" "Really?" Sasuke deadpanned, scarily serious, in a tone that said Madara should be fearing for his life. "If you have to ask, then you clearly don't know what you're getting yourself into." — AU. Crack!fic. Language Warning. Sequel to "Operation: F U N."


FINALLY, this moster is complete! This is the long-overdue sequel to _Operation: F U N_. This one is just as crack-ish as its prequel, if not more so. Again, it's crazy and meant to be funny, and some of the charcters are probably OCC.

But I don't care. Just don't complain to me, because you've been warned. Also, language warning.

I do not own American McGee's Alice or the Cheshire Cat character. Nor do I own Naruto or anything I've forgotten that you may find in this story that clearly isn't mine.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this. I know I certainly did when I was writing it. :)

Please read and review!

* * *

"You're _what_? !"

A sigh.

"Look, Naruto, I don't see what the problem is—"

"Problem? ! _Problem? !_ You're going on a date with teme's cousin! !"

"Like I said, I don't see—"

"He's, like, a bagillion years older than you! He's a pedophile — like that creepy biology teacher! It's rape! RAPE, I TELL YOU, RAPE!"

"Naruto!"

"OW!"

.

.

.

"_What_?"

"I never imagined you were hard of hearing, Sasuke."

"What the fuck, Madara? You're going on a _date_ with her?"

"Simply because _you_ are an impolite, cheating, sex-driven teenage boy does not mean that _I_ am, foolish little cousin."

"You're five years older than her!"

"Ah, but you see, _I_ haven't gone behind her back and slept with an obnoxious red-head that makes a living as your personal stalker."

"…"

A smirk.

"Fuck you."

.

.

.

"Please, Sakura-chan," Naruto whined from the hallway outside of her bedroom, trying desperately to open the door. "_Please_ don't go out with him."

"Why shouldn't I?" she demanded, cursing as she yanked off the stupid maid dress. Reminded of Madara in his butler outfit, she sniggered.

"Because he's _old_!" he insisted. "Like, _really_ old!"

"Not _that_ old," she retorted. A very unladylike word flew from her lips as her foot got caught in the dress, tripping her. She fell to the floor with a loud _crash_.

"Sakura-chan? !" He rammed his shoulder against the door. "Sakura-chan, are you okay? !" He charged it a second time before she was able to blink the white spots from her vision and reply.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. "I just — _Kami_, that hurt."

"What happened? Are you sure you're okay? You don't have a concussion or whatever, do you?"

"I said I'm _fine_. I just fell; don't flip out."

"If you're hurt, you don't have to go on the date! Seriously, you could—"

"_Naruto._"

He fell silent. She sighed.

"Quit spazing. And stop ignoring me; I know you're doing it on purpose."

"…fine."

She beamed at the door as if she could see through it. "I knew you'd see my way."

She heard him shuffling away, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "dictator." Rolling her eyes, she put him out of her mind. Naruto would be Naruto, after all.

Sakura had always been one of the guys. When she was little, she'd opted to catch spiders and bring them home rather than play tea party. As she grew, playing sports replaced hop scotch, and wearing old t-shirts took precedence over wearing skirts. She'd never really done _anything_ to blend in with other girls her age. Because of that, nearly every single one of her friends were guys. Hinata and another girl named Temari were the only exceptions.

So, Sakura didn't exactly believe in dressing up.

Ever.

Even for dates.

And if Madara had a problem with her showing up in a t-shirt and faded jeans, then he could go jump off a cliff.

A sudden high-pitched shriek sounded, quickly followed by a heavy _thud_.

"Hinata-chan? ! HINATA-CHAN? ! ARE YOU OKAY? !"

She smirked.

Nothing to worry about. Just Hinata waking up to find herself on the guest bed with Naruto standing barely an inch away, having a panic attack, and fainting. Again.

.

.

.

Sakura wasn't particularly sure what events had led up to the current situation, but she knew she'd only hurt her head if she tried to think about it. So, taking it in stride, she sighed for the thousandth time.

"Seriously, guys, just calm down," she said, shifting her weight to sit more comfortably. Naruto was at her side on her couch, and Sasuke's face was visible on the screen of her laptop via video chat.

"But, Sakura-chan, it's just so stupid!" her almost-brother whined. Surprisingly (or, in this case, not really), Sasuke agreed.

"_He's older than you,"_ he remarked bluntly. _"And he's an idiot. Knowing Madara, he's only taking you out to laugh in my face."_

She arched an eyebrow smoothly. "And that's a problem because…?"

He glared at her. _"Look, Sakura — just don't go out with him."_

"And what, exactly, should inspire me to accept _your_ dating advice, Sasuke?"

Insert glare number two.

"But teme's got a point!" Naruto spoke up. "He's a complete creeper!"

She snorted. "Oh, _please_, Naruto. Madara is not a creeper."

"You don't know that," he threw back instantly, eyes incredibly wide, face dead serious. "He could be a closet creeper. He could, like, kidnap little boys and rape puppies and stuff."

"Rape _puppies_? What the hell has _that_ got to do with anything?"

"Because it could be true! And you know that saying — once a guy rapes a puppy, what's to stop him from raping a girl?"

"That is _not_ a saying, you baka. You just pulled that out of your ass."

"Maybe I did, but still!"

"_Madara has a lot of"_ — Sasuke twitched violently on the screen, as if recalling bad memories — _"rather __**enthusiastic**__ stalkers. And he's had a lot of girlfriends. More than me and my brother combined."_

"I knew it!" Naruto accused. "I _knew_ he was a manwhore!"

"You two—" Sakura cut off, fists clenching as she glowered at them. "Would you both just _cut it out_? Kami, do you _have_ to be so rude?"

"But, Sakura-chan, he—"

"Enough!" The blond flinched. "I don't want to hear it! I'm going out with Madara for dinner, and there's nothing either of you can do about it! _Nothing!_" Meeting Naruto's silent despair and Sasuke's fury, she calmed herself. "Now. Time to initiate Operation: D.O.W.N."

They both looked at her blankly. Naruto was apparently the only one that could find his voice. "Huh?"

"D.O.W.N. Dine Out With Madara."

Sakura smirked to herself, crossing her arms over her chest.

Yeah. That's right. Stick _that_ in your pipes and smoke it, losers, 'cause she came up with that one right then and there. Her ability to think up awesome code names was unmatched.

Just further proof of her mad ninja skillz.

"Erm, Sakura-chan…?"

Her eyebrow rose. "Yes?"

"Doesn't, um…doesn't 'Madara' begin with an 'M'?"

She gave him her best "well-_duh_-idiot" look.

"And, uh, 'down' ends with an 'N'."

"What's your — wait, fuck…"

Cue awkward silence.

"…how about E.D.U.C.A.T.I.O.N? Eat Dinner with Uchiha at Café After Traumatizing Idiotic Obnoxious Neji."

They stared at her. Sasuke opened and closed his mouth at least twice, hardly believing what he'd just heard.

"_Sakura…how the _hell_ did you come up with that in two seconds?"_

Her smirk returned. "Because I'm just cool like that."

"That — that —," Naruto sputtered, eyes wide. "That was _awesome_, Sakura-chan!"

Oh, yeah. Mad ninja skillz.

Sadly, she was interrupted in the middle of her inward glee as nearly a dozen faces suddenly squished around Sasuke's on the screen, to which he violently protested.

"_Get off me!"_ he growled, attempting (and failing) to shove them all away. It was those 'Akatsuki' guys she'd met earlier that night.

"_What's up with this, Mini-Uchiha?"_ Deidara mocked, lopsided grin in place. _"Keeping them all to yourself, yeah?"_

"Greetings, minions," Sakura said coolly, making a show of acting nonchalant. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"_Ne, how come Uzumaki's over there with you?" _the blond inquired, cocking an eyebrow. _"We're all over here with the Mini-Uchiha."_

"'Cause Sakura-chan is _way_ cooler than stupid Sasuke-teme!" he answered in a huff, sticking out his tongue childishly.

Sasuke glared back. _"Dobe."_

Sakura cut in before her almost-brother could start a yelling match. "I also have instant ramen and Hinata."

"_Ah. _That_ makes more sense."_

Kisame shot her an obviously suggestive look. _"If I didn't know you any better, kitten, I'd say you set it up that way to keep the kid all to yourself."_

Almost immediately, Sasuke bristled. Sakura beamed at him in the false-sweet "I'm-imagining-your-bloody-demise-and-I'm-quite-enjoying-it" manner.

"Of course, Kisame. But you _do_ know me better." Her eyes opened, creepy smile widening. "Don't you?"

A couple of them flinched, while others stifled snickers.

"Now," she continued, practically chirping, "if you'll all excuse me—"

The buzzer sounded. She tilted her head, frowning. Someone was asking permission to enter the building.

"Naruto, go check it out."

"What? Why?"

Her death glare earned a shrill "eep" as he dove for the floor.

"Going!"

He scrambled off to do her biding while her "guests" on the laptop laughed. Sasuke grunted.

"_Tch. Dobe."_

If the boy had been around to hear it, a pissing contest would've no doubt been in order. Sakura waited patiently (pfft, _right_) for him to return, all the while letting her mind wander through the choices of yummy, cheap restaurants in Konoha. Come to think of it, why wasn't Madara with all the other people ganging up on Sasuke? Pein and Konan were missing, too, but that was no surprise; they'd left as soon as the whole kidnapping fiasco ended.

When Naruto finally reappeared and plopped down beside her, he said nothing. A few moments of silence passed. After what seemed like an eternity, he realized that she was watching him and glanced at her blankly. She arched an eyebrow.

Nothing.

Quickly growing irritated, she glowered.

"…what?"

Her eye twitched. "_Well?_" she demanded. "Who was it?"

"…oh. Oh!" Sasuke looked as though he was contemplating slamming his head against a wall. "Meh, no one important. Just Sai."

She stared at him for a minute. "…what the heck does _he_ want?"

He shrugged. "'Dunno. He'll be up in a second."

Instantly, she was back in glaring mode. "You let him in?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Naruto…" Her jaw clenched. "When someone wants in, you ask _why_ first. For all we know, Sai could be here to molest one of us because he doesn't understand the concept of sex."

He suddenly paled. "Oh my god, you're right!"

The sad part of it all?

It was entirely possible.

Sasuke, who would've scoffed at their idiocy had they been speaking of anyone else, snorted. _"Good going, dobe."_

"No!" he shrieked, hands fisting into his unruly hair as he looked at the girl wildly. "_No!_ Sakura-chan, I don't want to be raped! Save me! Sai's creepy and weird and _he would totally rape me_ _because of how creepy he is_! I WANT TO KEEP MY UN-RAPED-NESS INTACT!"

"'_The hell?"_ Kisame mumbled, eyeing the trio strangely. _"What're you—"_

That was when the door opened. Naruto froze, eyes impossibly wide, and hid himself behind Sakura. The Akatsuki watched in confusion and slight amusement as a boy with short black hair and shockingly pale skin approached them with a fake smile.

"Hello, Dickless, Ugly," he greeted, eyes crinkled closed.

Sakura grimaced back. "Hey, Sai," she mumbled half-heartedly; at the same time Naruto lifted his head and yelled back an indignant reply.

"I am _not_ dickless, Sai! AND STOP CALLING SAKURA-CHAN UGLY!"

His head tilted in a questioning way, plastic smile never wavering.

"Are you sure? Because seeing that you like the Hag's masculine physique makes me think differently."

Sakura proceeded to beat her head repeatedly against the coffee table while Naruto screamed insults and Sai answered politely.

"Tell him, teme!" he shouted, jabbing an accusing finger at the emotionless boy. "Tell him that Sakura-chan's not ugly or a hag or a guy or ANYTHING THIS STUPID JERK SAYS, 'CAUSE HE'S AN IDIOT!"

Sai turned his smile on the laptop. "Ah, the Traitor. It's nice to see you again. Have you been enjoying yourself engaging in personal relations with strange girls that sell their bodies while in the midst of courting the Hag?"

"OH MY GOD, Sai," Sakura growled, flashing out a hand to smack him upside the head. Everyone else just gaped at him in disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you that that was _two years ago_? !"

He frowned ever-so-slightly, the first hint of real emotion. "I still do not understand why you feel the need to hit me every time I bring it up," he said evenly, blinking in confusion. "Am I not defending you when I bring his actions to light?"

"As I have told you six times already, Sai — _no_. You are _not_ defending me." She glared Black Flames O' Doom when he opened his mouth to say something. "Now, tell me what you want, and get out."

"I came to ask what the expression 'we have bigger fish to fry' means."

She sighed, running a hand through her now-messy hair. "It means, 'we have more important matters to attend to'."

He smiled. "Thank you, Ugly."

Then, he abruptly turned on his heel and walked out. Sakura and Naruto stared after him for a moment, exchanging an exasperated look.

"God, that guy freaks me out."

"_What the _hell_ was _that_?"_ Deidara sputtered.

She glanced at the screen darkly. "That was Sai."

They asked no further questions.

.

.

.

Naruto glanced at his almost-sister uneasily as she began cackling in a manner which he most certainly did not like. Hinata was still passed out on the guest bed in Sakura's apartment, and Sasuke had somehow managed to drag himself there while simultaneously avoiding the Akatsuki people. The three sat around the coffee table in the living room area of her apartment.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Sasuke demanded, always the more abrasive of the two when it came to confronting Sakura.

She suddenly stopped laughing and stared straight at him silently. He shifted his weight in the chair, unnerved by her bipolar tendencies. Then, as quickly as her mood had changed, she shoved a slightly-crumpled paper in his face. Curious, Naruto leaned from his chair to get a look, as well. The atrocious handwriting scrawled across the paper and the numerous arrows indicating the order in which it was supposed to be read told them that yes, she _had_, in fact, constructed this _thing_ all on her own. Due to the sheer messiness of it all, it took them a minute to figure out what the hell they were reading. When it dawned on Sasuke, though, he grimaced.

"You're crazy."

She grinned maniacally. "Why, thank you."

* * *

**Operation: EDUCATION**

**Eat Dinner with Uchiha at Café After Traumatizing Idiotic Obnoxious Neji**

Written by: Haruno Sakura

o1. Converge.

Requirements: reliable running shoes, cell phone, money

* * *

If Sakura's pale pink hair wasn't attracting attention as she ran down the street, then her neon purple converse certainly were. The things practically freak'n _glowed_. The few people that were still out and about on the main street at 9:13 at night didn't seem to appreciate them as much as she did. Go figure.

Attempting to dial a number on one's cell phone and run at the same time without tripping over something turned out to be much more difficult than one would think.

"_What?"_

"Yeah, hi, Sasuke," she greeted quickly. "Uh — I don't have Madara's number."

"…_so?"_

"_So_ I can't tell him where to meet me."

"_He's at my house."_

"And this helps me, _how_?"

"_You know my house number, idiot."_

"…oh. Right."

He sighed on the other end. _"You and Naruto — you're both morons."_

"Love you, too."

As soon as she hung up, she called his house (without falling on her face! Ten points!). When no one picked up after the first twelve rings, Sakura applied the logic her mother had taught her — keep letting it ring until some unfortunate soul finally answered. Ring number twenty-one did the trick.

"_What the hell?"_ a voice demanded angrily. _"Hang the fuck up, already!"_

She definitely recognized that voice. Haden? Hido, maybe?

"Fuck you. Put Madara on."

There was a pause.

"_Is this that fucked-up pink-haired chick?"_

"Fucked-up? No. Psychotic, maybe, but fucked-up? I take offense to that."

A second voiced sounded in the background much too low for her to hear, and the speaker replied flatly, _"Yeah. It's the bitch."_

It took a moment, but eventually Madara's voice replaced that of H-san's.

"_Sakura?"_

"Yes, hi, hello. How goes it?"

He laughed. _"Measurably well, I'd say. And to what do I owe this pleasure?"_

"You know that cool place on the main street by the sushi shop?"

"_What, Mimiko's?"_

"No, the _cool_ place."

"…_the fast-food joint?"_

"Yeah. That one. Meet me there."

"_Wouldn't you rather go somewhere…nicer?"_

She stopped dead in the middle of the road and glared at her phone.

"Is there something _wrong_ with that place?"

"_No, no — of course not. I just assumed —"_

"I like dancing pandas. And this place has a frigg'n dancing panda. I LIKE THE DANCING PANDA."

"_I see; dancing panda it is, then."_

Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice that Madara was choking back chuckles — not that he was actually laughing _at_ her.

"Yes. And once we get there, I'll introduce you to Operation: E.D.U.C.A.T.I.O.N."

"_Operation education?"_ But she had already ended the call.

.

Madara arched a dark eyebrow in amusement as he hung up the phone. Hidan was frowning at him while Itachi leaned against the kitchen doorframe, watching him curiously.

"Did you just say, 'operation education'?"

He smirked. "I did," the eldest Uchiha agreed. He couldn't help but be intrigued to discover what the girl had up her sleeve this time around.

"What the fuck," Hidan muttered under his breath. "That chick is psycho."

Before either male could reply, the phone rang again. The self-declared Jashinist snorted.

"What — did she forget something?"

Surprisingly enough, when Madara answered it, Sasuke's voice was the one that greeted him oh-so-cheerfully.

"_Where does that deranged, bipolar _thing_ want you to meet her?"_

"Sasuke?" The corner of Madara's lips turned down. "Little cousin, how did you know that Sakura just called here to tell me that?"

"_Not important. Where did she tell you to meet her?"_

"At the fast-food restaurant on Main Street. Why?"

He swore on the other end. _"I knew it. I thought at first she might've meant The Panda Playhouse—"_

"That rip-off of Chuck-e-Cheese's?"

"—_but the people in panda suits there don't dance."_

"What in God's name does this have to do with a dancing panda?"

Kisame, having just entered the room, barked a short laugh. "A dancing panda?" he echoed, grinning. "Talking to Pinky?"

"My foolish otouto," Itachi corrected, much to his companion's confusion.

"_Really?"_ Sasuke deadpanned, scarily serious, in a tone that said Madara should be fearing for his life. _"If you have to ask, then you clearly don't know what you're getting yourself into."_ He abruptly hung up on that foreboding note. Madara frowned deeply at the phone before turning to Itachi.

"Cousin, do _you_ know why both Sasuke and Sakura mentioned a dancing panda?" he inquired.

Itachi gave the barest of shrugs. Madara sighed and ran a hand through his long, unruly hair.

"I'm beginning to think we won't actually be eating."

.

When Madara arrived at the restaurant with the name he couldn't remember, he found Sakura quivering with excitement in a gray plastic booth near the back — not that he really expected any differently. The second she saw him, she flung an arm up in the air and waved in such a spastic manner that many parents began shifting their children to tables further away from her. The man chuckled to himself incredulously. She really was a five-year-old on the inside. So, with soundless chortles building up in the back of his throat, he walked to her table and took a seat. Sakura checked her limited edition Scooby-Doo watch with a grin.

"Exactly three thirty-three," she complimented. "Impressive."

Madara paused, then glanced at his cell phone uncertainly. "Do you mean _nine_ thirty-three?"

She frowned as she looked at her watch again. "Oh. Damn. How did my watch get that far behind?"

He leaned across the table and tilted his head, examining the glow-in-the-dark contraption around her wrist. "No, no — your watch is fine."

Her eye twitched, to which he coughed to cover up a laugh. "Shut up."

He merely smiled. "What would you like to eat?"

Her eyes lit up. "Kid's meal!"

People from surrounding tables were eyeing them strangely, and Madara was suddenly beginning to feel like a pedophile. _Oh, Lord._

"Chicken," she elaborated, a wide, animated grin stretching across her face. "With fries. And a milkshake. Chocolate."

He nearly winced, wondering grimly if taking her out when she was in the mindset of a kindergartener was legal. Great merciful God, why did the majority of his family have to be in the police force? He'd have to arrest himself before the night was up — he was sure of it. Or maybe get one of his relatives to do it.

Completely ignoring the fact that he had aided her earlier in kidnapping and assaulting a guy. _His_ priorities were clearly straight.

His worry only grew as he watched her from the line at the register; she was snickering to herself with glee, occasionally pulling out a heavily-creased paper from her pocket and smirking at it before putting it back.

Maybe she was bipolar? Or had multiple personality disorder? Either way, there was definitely something wrong with her head, because she hadn't been acting _this_ strangely when he last saw her.

Sasuke's words came back to him.

"_If you have to ask, then you clearly don't know what you're getting yourself into."_

He was starting to think there was more truth to his cousin's words than he'd given him credit for.

And somehow — _somehow_ — this all related to a dancing panda.

It took about twenty minutes for him to order, get their food, and return to the table, and his concern hadn't lessened any. If anything, it'd grown. Sakura was looking a little too pumped for whatever she was planning, and he suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to know anymore.

"So, this — this 'Operation Education'," he began, setting the tray down, but Sakura cut him off.

"Uhn-uh," she chided playfully, wagging a finger in his face that he crossed his eyes to see. "Not yet. Not 'til we've eaten, because there's a chance we won't get to do so afterwards."

That didn't help his uncertainty at all.

"I see," was all he said.

.

.

.

As Sasori crouched down with the others, Kisame's ass in his face and Deidara practically climbing over his back, he wondered with a twitching eyebrow what in the seven levels of Hell had convinced him to agree to this. He growled low in his throat as a bright orange and black tennis shoe stepped on his head.

Oh, yes.

It was _him_.

He swore to himself venomously, fingers yanking at the grass beneath him, that he would gut the vivacious blond and string him up by his toes once the opportunity arose. And the Mini-Uchiha, too, he added when he felt the knee digging into his side. He'd kill them both.

The group was receiving some rather odd looks as they crouched outside the wall-sized window of the fast food joint, completely within sight of the pedestrians on the road _and_ the customers of said restaurant. Madara was quite obviously forcing himself not to look at them lest he break out into laughter at their comical state. Piled on top of one another as they were, they took up about a single square-length of concrete one usually found sidewalks separated into.

It wasn't comfortable in the slightest.

.

.

.

As Sakura stuffed her last dozen or so fries into her mouth with her right hand, she removed the Operation: E.D.U.C.A.T.I.O.N. Statistics from her pocket with her left and shoved it in Madara's face. He jerked back a bit at her sudden movement, liking his nose _un_-broken, thank you very much. She waved it about until he took it and smoothed out the poorly-abused paper.

"Operation: E.D.U.C.A.T.I.O.N.," he read, cocking an eyebrow. The pair was oblivious to the way their audience on the other side of the window tensed up. "One: Converge."

"That's what we're doing now," Sakura input helpfully.

He nodded absently, giving her a small smile. "Okay. Two—"

He did a double-take.

Then looked up at her in horror.

Sakura grinned like the Cheshire Cat — and not just _any_ Cheshire Cat. Like _American McGee's_ Cheshire Cat.

That shit was scary.

* * *

o2. Assault.

Requirements: Taser, duct tape, Icha Icha (maybe), paper, black marker, mad ninja skillz

* * *

What in the name of all things holy had he gotten himself into?

He felt like he could actually die of embarrassment as he and Sakura crouched behind a table, _completely within sight of everyone in the goddamn building_, and spied on the man in the panda costume.

Who was dancing.

"Hi, kiddies~!" he giggled in a funny voice to the children in the restaurant — which, admittedly, there were very few of seeing as it was nearing ten o'clock at night. He did a funky little jig, and Sakura squirmed in place, apparently trying to mimic his movements, with a huge grin on her face.

His ears and the back of his neck burned as he gazed at the chair before him in despair.

"_What in God's name does this have to do with a dancing panda?"_

"_If you have to ask, then you clearly don't know what you're getting yourself into."_

He nearly groaned as the words echoed through his head again.

Why hadn't he listened to Sasuke? Sure, he was a brat, but he was usually pretty smart.

Sakura quivered with excitement and turned to beam at him. "Ready?"

Madara could feel the weight of his friends' anxious eyes on his back as he met her look with a grimace. He watched her overjoyed expression slowly fall and crumble into one of hurt.

"…You don't want to?"

And to top it all off, Madara felt like a colossal jerk.

Jesus, it looked like she was actually going to cry.

And the worst part? This wasn't the infamous fake-tears he'd heard women were particularly good at.

She was genuinely upset.

Way-to-go, you asshole.

Very quickly and very quietly, Madara slammed his head against the red metal bars of the chair he was crouched behind.

He plastered on a smile and turned to her. "Are you kidding? I've been waiting my whole life to jump a guy in a dancing panda suit."

Her grin broke out ten-fold its original size. Then, to his surprise, she all but tackled him into a hug. He stumbled a bit, falling back on his ass as he wrapped his arms around her to steady her.

"Wha—?" he choked out, eyes wide.

Arms encircling his neck and cheek pressed against the side of his head, she couldn't have been happier. "Thanks."

The sudden muffled screech that sounded suspiciously like, "I'M GONNA KILL THAT BASTARD!" went entirely unnoticed.

"Alright," Sakura half-whispered, abruptly pulling back and acquiring a persona that scarily resembled that of a militaristic officer. "We don't have much time — The Dancing Panda, henceforth to be known as The DP, quits at eleven because little kids are all generally gone by then. We have one hour to complete Phase Two and move along to Phase Three. Any questions?"

Madara just barely managed to keep a straight face; laughing at her antics would just upset her and make her think he was ridiculing her — even if she _was_ acting ridiculously. So, because he was an expert at playing along and doing childish things, he raised his hand as though he were in school. Naturally, this earned the pair many strange looks from the other patrons, as they were still crouched behind a table.

"Yes?"

"How do we go about this without traumatizing the children running around? I doubt they'll be able to leave mentally unscathed after we jump the guy in the costume."

"Right." She nodded sagely. "Good question. We'll jump him outside."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how do we get him outside and away from the windows long enough to do that?"

He got the distinct feeling he wasn't going to like what she proposed when he saw the smirk curling at the corners of her lips.

.

.

.

Dread weighed him down like a boulder as Sakura positively skipped out of the restaurant, beaming and swigging her arms to and fro. She waved from the door before trotting out, leaving Madara with his job. He sighed heavily, standing and dragging one hand down his face.

Now, don't get him wrong — Madara was all for crazy schemes and getting a good laugh at someone else's expense. In fact, he was usually the mastermind at home whenever something like this went down, as long as his younger cousin Shisui didn't get around to it first. He was no stranger to harebrained plots.

It was just…

…he was about to make a fool out of himself in front of _children_…

Madara wasn't particularly fond of such things, as kids tended to misunderstand situations. First, they'd get scared, then the tears would start, and then the screaming, and they'd yell "scary man," and people would get the wrong impression, and they'd take one look at his age and peg him a pedophile, and —

To put it simply, he wasn't so great with kids.

Sighing again, he made up his mind: he'd agreed to go along with Sakura's plans, and he'd be damned before he let her down. His Uchiha pride wouldn't allow him to, and he already had to make up for Sasuke's past screw-ups because his family name would otherwise suffer.

Terrific.

Resigning himself to the situation, Madara did his best to ignore the 'what the hell is he doing' looks from his friends and made his way over to the man in the dancing panda costume. He paused momentarily behind a group of nine-year-olds (why the heck were they awake at this hour?) before neatly stepping around them. His target turned around to greet who he expected to be another young child.

"Hey there, little guy!" Panda-man giggled in the stupid voice, and Madara was a little irked at being referred to in such a manner.

Something in the back of his head screeched that this wouldn't end well, but he was rather talented in the art of deceiving oneself, so he paid it no mind and hurried to speak before his resolve waned.

"There's a little girl outside who's just dying to get a picture with you," he said in the most nonchalant voice he could muster.

Inwardly, he was banging his head against a wall. No one was stupid enough to believe that, especially since Sakura — _whom they'd all seen sitting with him the entire time_ — had slipped out the door not a minute earlier. And just the way it was worded, a man that looked like a cross between a punk and a host saying he had a little girl with him? Jesus, even _he_ knew how creepy that sounded. There was no way it was going to work, and he blamed it on Sakura's lack of forethought —

"Ooh!" Panda-man suddenly squealed, dancing about. "Taking pictures is fun!"

Madara openly stared at the man, completely at a loss for words. Had he seriously just agreed? Being that thickheaded just wasn't _possible_ —

But, then, maybe Sakura had known he was dull enough to go along with it. From the way she'd been acting, it was obvious she'd been to the restaurant many times, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that she knew how to get his attention.

He frowned slightly, feeling a little creeped out at the way Panda-man just kept standing there (presumably staring at him) without saying a word. It was almost as if the man was studying him — had he caught onto him?

No, he decided, Sakura knew what she was doing. He'd trust her judgment, no matter how flawed it seemed.

So, finding himself without anything else to say, Madara turned on his heel and walked for the door. Disappointed whines sounded behind him, and he heard Panda-man saying that he'd be right back to play with the other children some more.

He couldn't help the silent snort that escaped him; Panda-man wouldn't be returning anytime soon, if Sakura had her way.

And, yet, that little voice still shouted that _something was not right_, but he waded out into the middle of that Egyptian River and continued along his way.

He didn't bother to hold the door for Panda-man — any guy that had the security to parade around in a dancing panda costume certainly didn't need doors to be held for him — and stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from flexing his fingers nervously as he led their soon-to-be-victim outside. Naruto, Sasuke, and their Akatsuki pals all slid down the windows, watching intently, but they didn't get close; the former two knew what was about to happen, and they had no intention of getting anywhere near the crime scene.

As soon as the door closed behind them, effectively shielding them from the disappointed children inside — and just seven or so feet away from the corner Sakura was crouched around — Panda-man piped up cheerily.

And his pitch was disconcertingly higher — disconcertingly _familiar_.

"Tobi didn't know _you_ were here, Madara-nii-san!"

Madara froze, paling drastically as horror unlike anything he'd ever felt washed through him.

Oh, no. _No._ There was no way.

_Oh SHIT —_

Before he could even begin to speak or warn her or _anything_ at all, Sakura appeared from around the corner and leapt at Panda-man with a Taser in her hand, grinning full blast.

.

.

.

"You just got your asses kicked by a guy in a dancing panda costume."

Madara groaned, feeling hardly capable of moving. He was sprawled out flat on his back in the middle of the sidewalk, doing his best to decipher the fuzzy faces above him from the spots of random colors exploding across his eyeballs. Sakura wasn't much better off, though she was admittedly sitting up, a feat which he couldn't claim. She held one hand to her forehead and right eye, wincing every couple of breaths as some area of her body that she could no longer identify ached.

Between deep, concentration-absorbing breaths, Madara managed to bite out, "It was Tobi."

At that, Kisame, Hidan, and whoever else it was — he couldn't see them — roared with laughter.

"_That_ certainly explains it."

"What the hell could've _possibly_ convinced you to jump your crazy, split-personality, fucking _inhumanly-strong_ _martial arts expert_ of a younger brother?"

"Didn't know 'til too late," was all he could wheeze, coughing as his bruised ribs dug painfully into his lungs.

"Jesus, look at him," Kisame muttered, peering in the restaurant through the closest window. "That little idiot is back to dancing and playing with the kids. Heck, he probably thought you two were _play-fighting_ with him out here, which is why you're even still _alive_."

Madara groaned again, wishing Izuna was there. Whilst he, the oldest of the three, was Tobi's favorite sibling, Izuna, the middle son, was far more capable of handling their younger brother. And keeping him from "play-fighting" (AKA, unintentionally beating the ever living shit out of people, as he severely underestimated his own strength).

"How did you not know that he works as the dancing panda here?" Sakura demanded, practically hunching over when pain exploded in her side just from talking. "You're his brother."

"I've been doing my best not to associate with him for the past _entirety_ of my life. Especially after he went through that phase in middle school where he strapped that ugly orange mask to his face and told people he was me while still speaking in the third person."

"Dude, that didn't stop in middle school…"

"It didn't stop _at all_."

"Don't remind me."

"Looks like your plan is ruined," Sasuke deadpanned, not sounding particularly disappointed, but rather relieved and perhaps a bit smug.

Hand still covering nearly half of her face, she said stubbornly, "Maybe if we pull out Icha Icha to distract him—"

"Look, kid," Kisame interrupted, not unkindly. "I've heard all the horror stories of how you beat up people at your school for picking on Naruto and Hinata — hell, I even witnessed your psychotic streak when we kidnapped that Hyuga brat earlier tonight, and your actions in the restaurant tell me that you're even more off your rocker than any of us thought." She felt rightly proud at his statements. "But trust me when I tell you that you will _never_ — and I mean _never_ — be able to get the jump on that crazy little son of a bitch."

They all watched Sakura deflate — Madara sensed it more than saw it, as he was still reduced to a painful heap on the ground.

"Come on, Sakura-chan," Naruto murmured, pity jerking at his heartstrings as he observed how crestfallen she was. "There's still plenty of other people you can jump."

"But he's the only one in a dancing panda costume…"

"Then jump someone at the Panda Playhouse, and you can dance in _their_ costume."

Her eyes lit up.

"It's late; they're closed," Sasuke said flatly, and the energy left her again.

"Then _make_ your own panda costume," Kisame suggested. Not words he ever thought he'd be saying, but…

"Or don't," Naruto added quickly, paling as she seemed to be considering that plan. "Seriously, it'd be too much trouble. Aha ha ha…"

"No, wait," she objected. "I could do that. I could _definitely_ make a panda costume. I just need some fabric from the store down the street, and I've got a hot glue gun at home—"

"NO!" the blond shrieked, eyes wide with horror.

"Do you want a repeat of our second year in middle school?" Sasuke demanded stiffly.

She frowned at him. "Okay, look, I've already apologized for that a million times. How was _I_ supposed to know that hot glue guns couldn't be used like that?"

"Common sense. Obviously."

"Yeah, well, I was in middle school."

"So were the twenty other people that screamed for you not to do it."

"Whatever. I just didn't know how to use one at the time—"

"And you still don't _now_."

"Please, Sakura-chan," Naruto begged, ready to fall to his knees and grovel if he had to. "Please don't. I don't want my hands stuck in weird places again. And my foot…"

Shuddering, he stared off into the distance as he relived some past trauma. Sasuke's grimace indicated that he remembered as well.

"What's this about a hot glue gun?" Madara asked when he was finally able to sit up.

Sasuke just shook his head, and Sakura looked away guiltily.

"Er, nothing…" She sighed. "Well, I could just use something else to put it together. Like a stapler…" The color drained from Naruto's face. "Or not."

An awkward silence settled over the group. Sakura stared at her feet for a long moment, feeling her spirit fall further with each breath. Finally, she pushed herself up to stand, ignoring the pain that shot through her. That guy had really done a number on her. When she removed her hand from her face, Madara frowned. The bruise was already beginning to form.

"I should just go home," Sakura mumbled, avoiding every eye that watched her. "I've clearly screwed this up like usual, and I'd rather not make an embarrassment of myself again in front of the only people I consider friends." She smiled, eyes crinkling, but it wasn't genuine in the slightest. "Sorry for wasting everyone's time."

"Sakura-chan, wait," Naruto tried, reaching out to grab her hand, but she jerked it away before he could.

"I'll bring Hinata home in the morning, so you don't have to worry about her," she said, standing with her back toward him. "And don't say a thing to her father or Neji; I've got this." She sent him another fake smile over her shoulder. "Better me being banned from ever coming within twenty miles of their house again than you."

Naruto found himself unable say anything as she walked away. The line of her shoulders was straight and strong, but something about the way she held herself seemed unbearably sad. It wasn't until she looked to be an inch tall in the distance that Sasuke sighed as though irritated.

He turned to glower at his older cousin, who still sat on the sidewalk, bewildered. Madara was one of his least favorite family members, but he couldn't deny what he'd witnessed. He'd only ever seen that look on Sakura's face once before, and that was when their previous relationship had fallen apart so terribly.

She really liked his asshole of a cousin, and he wasn't so cruel as to let her throw it away because she was afraid she'd ruined her chances.

Sasuke's jaw clenched, arms crossing over his chest as he glared down at him. It didn't mean he had to like it.

"She's going to mope and dig through her freezer for ice cream until she remembers that she doesn't have any," he bit out. "Her favorite is mint chocolate chip."

And with that, he spun on his heel to stalk off back home. Naruto lit up.

"Hey, that's right!" he exclaimed. "I'll go get her some—"

Sasuke clotheslined him, earning a choked screech as the blond hit the ground. He snatched him up by his collar and dragged him along with him. "Not _you_, dobe. Take a hint."

Madara blinked after his younger cousin, mind drawing a blank. Kisame laughed loudly, and even Itachi's lips curled up in the beginnings of a smirk. The former pulled Madara up to stand, and then laughed again at his clueless expression.

"I believe that was Sasuke giving you his permission," Itachi murmured.

Madara just stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending.

Kisame shook his head. Uchiha's were obviously pretty stupid behind that whole genius façade. Snickering, Deidara grinned at him.

"Go get the ice cream, yeah. It's rude to keep a lady waiting."

When it dawned on him, Madara felt like an idiot — not that he'd ever admit it.

.

.

.

Sitting with her feet drawn up on the couch and her head between her knees, Sakura groaned to herself for the thousandth time since returning home. She'd really done it now. She'd been so happy about being asked out by Madara that she'd been desperate to make sure he enjoyed himself, too, by cooking up another one of her harebrained plans.

She remembered the way he'd looked when they were going through with Operation: F.U.N. Like he'd never had so much fun in his entire life. She'd just wanted to see that smile again.

She'd wanted him to feel as happy as she did. Because, maybe then, she'd actually have a chance with someone like him.

But what had she been thinking?

There was no way she'd _ever_ be in the running for him. He was rich and attractive and funny and intelligent and a lot kinder than his last name gave him credit for.

And what was she?

Childish. Stupid. Poorly-mannered.

And the dancing panda part probably hadn't helped at all. Pandas were her favorite animal, and something about seeing one dance just made her giggle. She'd actually wanted to be a dancing panda for Halloween last year, but the looks she'd received from Sasuke and Naruto upon telling them made her think otherwise.

Some small, hopeful, _stupid_ part of her had thought that maybe — just maybe — Madara might enjoy being her partner in crime and join her in playing in a panda costume like the child she still was on the inside because he'd been in such high spirits during their last escapade.

She should've known better.

No one was ever going to understand. She was just silly and juvenile.

Now she'd messed up big time, and there wasn't even any damn ice cream to make her feel a tiny bit better about it.

Depression seeped into her very bones, and Sakura wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by the floor and spared from the mockery she'd face if she ever saw him again. Throughout the entire process of feeling sorry for herself, however, tears never came. Thankfully. She didn't think she could stand it if she actually broke down and cried over him.

It took a long minute for her to recognize that there was someone knocking at her apartment door. She attempted to cover her ears, but the noise still made it through. She didn't want to open it. She didn't want to see whoever it was.

She just wanted one night to be miserable without anyone robbing her of her right to be so. Was that so much to ask for?

Apparently, it was, because the knocking didn't stop.

Heaving a tired sigh, Sakura reluctantly shuffled off the couch and nearly stumbled to the door. Moping had given her a headache. She leaned against the wall for a moment, praying that the person would go away. They didn't.

Finally, she unlocked the door and opened it.

Immediately, she tried to slam it back closed, but a hand held it. She groaned and slumped against the wall, face hidden by her hands, mortified to be seen in such a state. As she slid down to the floor, she heard him come in and shut the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, voice muffled.

He didn't reply at first, and she suddenly felt a chill in front of her forehead. Peeking between her fingers, she saw a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream suspended before her. Noticing this, he said, "I figured you'd like some dessert after dinner." He shrugged, pulling it back, and reached for the doorknob. "But if you'd rather not, I can go—"

"No!" she squeaked, head snapping up. Then, realizing what she'd done, she looked away with a reddening face. "Sorry, I — I'm weird today. Ignore me."

Madara crouched before her, offering the ice cream again. When she wouldn't meet his gaze, he spoke. "You seem just fine to me."

Sakura broke into a small smile, fidgeting. "That's what they all say. But sooner or later, you'll come to see that I'm a total freak, and you'd be better off distancing yourself before that happens."

"A freak, hm?" he mused, grabbing her hand and forcing her to take the ice cream that she'd made no move to accept. "I've got no problem with that. I'm related to hordes of them." She couldn't contain her laughter at that, and he smirked. "But you're not what I'd call a freak."

"Oh?" she countered, finally daring to look at him. "What am I, then?"

"Happy."

Sakura's breath left her as his fingers skimmed across her cheek.

"That's a nasty bruise," he acknowledged. "My apologies for my younger brother. You should put ice on it."

Insides squirming, Sakura turned her head away, letting his fingers hang in midair before he put them back down. "I guess."

"Tonight didn't turn out so bad."

Her eyes shot to his, taken aback. Not so bad? What the heck was he on? It'd been a disaster! Evidently reading that on her face, he huffed in amusement.

"Despite the embarrassment of having my younger brother throw me to the ground like a sack of potatoes in a dancing panda costume," he relented, "I found myself enjoying both your company and your lovely way of living. I look forward to the next time you invite me along to join in on your 'secret operations'."

She stared at him, speechless, cheeks growing warm. She managed to force out, "…you did?"

"Immensely," he agreed, helping her up. "What say you devise us something crazy and reckless to do tomorrow?"

Sakura's answering smile was wide and bright and immeasurably ecstatic. "That's easy — just give me five minutes."

He smirked back.

She took his hand and tugged him toward the kitchen. "Come on. I'm not nearly depressed enough to eat this entire carton of ice cream, and I'll be damned if this isn't gone before tomorrow. Letting mint chocolate chip sit in the freezer for more than a day is sacrilege."

He chuckled, allowing her to drag him along. "And how do you propose we eat this ice cream?" he questioned mirthfully. "With spoons and bowls? Perhaps forks and knives to make it interesting?"

Sakura grinned at him as she retrieved two spoons. "There's this game Naruto and I invented when we were in middle school where you get a whole carton of ice cream, watch a scary movie, and take a bite every time one of the characters does something stupid. You'd be surprised how quickly you finish it off."

Madara accepted his spoon, using the gesture as an excuse to run his fingers over hers. "It's a date."

* * *

Behind The Scenes: The Statistics of Operation: E.D.U.C.A.T.I.O.N.

* * *

**Operation: EDUCATION**

**Eat Dinner with Uchiha at Café After Traumatizing Idiotic Obnoxious Neji**

Written by: Haruno Sakura

o1. Converge.  
Requirements: reliable running shoes, cell phone, money

(Run to fast food place on main street, call Madara along the way, meet there, get food.)

o2. Assault.  
Requirements: Taser, duct tape, Icha Icha (maybe), paper, black marker, mad ninja skillz

(Attack guy in the panda costume, knock him out, steal panda costume, bind with duct tape, leave in bathroom stall, tape "OUT OF ORDER" sign to door of stall.)

o3. Go wild.  
Requirements: panda costume, possibly more mad ninja skillz

(Proceed to prance about in panda costume, terrorize the population, wreak havoc, make Madara laugh.)


End file.
